Fall Is The Best Season Ever
Summer ends today, you guys. Summer is over. Bye summer.
I’m usually summer’s biggest fan but this year it really tested my love. First of all, I had to be aware of my body for three months straight which was really rude and emotional for me. Ninety days of wearing shorts and shirts. Ninety days of having any kind of weight gain shoved in your face.
Then, of course, there was the constant sweat. And smells! Weird smells that came from your body. Smells you didn’t really even know were possible until 100 degrees of heat made them rise to the surface.
So yeah, you know what, I’m not going to miss you summer. You’re a punk. Plus, fall is way better. Fall comes around each year and steals your thunder. “Oh, here I am, in my cute little cardigan drinking a hot toddy. I can take it from here, summer! BYE.” Bye, indeed. See you next year, you hot dick!
Fall didn’t become my favorite season until I moved to the East Coast. Where I grew up in Southern California, seasons consisted of warm days punctuated by the occasional fire, Santa Ana winds, or flash flood. We didn’t really have tons of leaves or the kind of cold weather that merited Bill Cosby sweaters and hot chocolate.
When I came to New York, it was in the middle of a terrible winter, and all people could talk about was how amazing fall would be… in eight months. New Yorkers love fall. Summer is too hot, winter is too cold, spring lasts for three days in May, but fall is just right. It’s a gorgeous chunk of three months. People are happy rolling around in the leaves, going to the cloisters, walking around Central Park. Fall basically turns us into a giant pussy. All of a sudden we’re living our lives like we’re in some bad rom-com with no shame whatsoever. Then, in winter, we turn into giant assholes again.
Here’s what you need to have an amazing fall: Someone to make out with. I say that about every season but with fall I really mean it. The weather is just romantic. Period. Go get your D sucked on a bed of leaves with someone great. Put a scarf on your dick and have some festive fun!
My favorite fall happened when I was in college and in the middle of dating a really nice guy. Our first date transpired on a very fall-y night and I remember walking through Washington Square Park late at night together, my heart swelling with happiness. It was a perfect time to be smitten.
I can’t think about fall without thinking of dreamy music like Tamaryn and Washed Out. Their sounds perfectly match the hazy weather and overcast skies. I can’t think of fall without thinking of getting colds and drinking lots of tea. (Who am I kidding, I drank hot toddies to cure whatever ailed me.) I can’t think of fall without thinking of drinking whiskey in my bathtub, the sounds of Billie Holiday wafting through the door. (Yes, I am that gay during fall. Just deal.)
Fall reminds me of my childhood, of Halloween and candy and fake blood and uncomfortable costumes that obstruct your vision. It reminds me of change, of Halloween costumes gradually getting sluttier and hooking up with a man dressed as a rabbi at a costume party and forgetting to eat any candy. It reminds me of being the only person who ever wants to watch horror movies.
I’m a sucker for this season. I’m fall’s bitch. Are you?
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The apartment you lived in your first year out of school, the walk-up with a view of the street.
I wanted to quit my job. I hated my boss.
His eyes widened, he became angry, and backed off of me. I told him he could leave now. Now. He said “With you being a good Christian girl, and me studying to be a priest, I think it’s important we not tell anyone what we did.”
In a fallen world, hope, like faith, is often the hardest thing to hold onto especially when you need it the most.